Silver strings
by PandorasDeath
Summary: DracoHarry. Draco and Harry share a moment's passion. But such things are never meant to last. Character death
1. Default Chapter

Draco awoke from fitful dreams panting slightly. Glancing around his finely furnished bedroom, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep again that night so he decided to do something to take his mind off things. Draco climbed out of bed as naked as the day he was born. His body was an Adonis. He had a figure that even Michelangelo's David would be jealous of; a nicely muscled chest, stomach and arms. His hair, now nearing shoulder length, hung in platinum, silk strands around his face. Dancing out from behind his ears to conceal the rich silver of his eyes or else tickle the perfect rose petal lips.

Draco's alabaster skin glowed in the moonlight that filtered in through his open balcony window as he walked across his room. In the far corner of the room lay a small black case that he picked up and brought over to the bed. His perfectly manicured hands felt around the sides of the case and found the clasps on either side. With a muted clicking sound he opened the case to reveal the midnight black velvet interior. Inside, Draco's fingertips found a blood red Stradivarius violin and bow.

It was a gift from his father on his eleventh birthday; he was the most promising young virtuoso at the time. The violin had been enchanted by his father, if there was anyone within sounds reach who was in love with the person playing the violin they would be irresistibly drawn towards the sound. When Draco first heard this he thought it was ridiculous, of course everyone loved him, if he ever played it his room would be filled to the brim with his admirers. And so it was that the first time Draco played his new violin his heart was shattered in a million pieces, for not only did no one come to him, even his parents ignored him. That day Draco found out that money and nobility does not buy love, and his sheets were soaked with tears.

Draco's violin was not alone in being enchanted, Narcissa's ebony, concert grand piano was enchanted as well as Lucius's scarlet cello.

Draco lifted the violin from the case and began to play a haunting melody by Danny Elfman, his body swaying to the music. He walked out onto the balcony, the pale moonlight illuminating his naked form, making him look almost blue in his paleness. A million stars salted the sky revealing the secrets of the universe to those who could read them. There was only one secret in Draco's heart, a secret that meant death if he dared utter it. And so he played and envisioned emerald eyes framed by round glasses, a lightening scar obscured by messy raven hair.

Harry was in the middle of reading through his new sixth year text books when his ears caught the dark notes of Draco's music. He instantly became intrigued, moved by the faint music he was hearing. He dropped his textbook and left his room exiting the house with only a grunt in the direction of Mr. & Mrs. Weasley to let them know he was leaving. His feet carried him in the direction of the music through the unfamiliar streets around Grimmauld Place. Harry had walked seven city blocks and marveled at how far the music had traveled. The music took him into an upper-first-class neighborhood.

Sprawling estates lined the street on either side, each with a distinctly forbidding look; Harry arrived at the end of the street at the grandest estate of them all. The entire property was encased in a black, wrought iron fence, complete with locked gate. Inscribed in gold lettering on the gate was two letters, 'M M'. As Harry approached the gate it clicked open, as if by magic. Harry hesitated a moment, what if he was walking right into the hands of Voldemort? But as the music reached a fevered pitch all thoughts were swept from Harry's mind, the enchantments of the instrument had taken over.

Harry walked dreamlike up the winding driveway of the manner, past the perfectly manicured gardens and through the open gate that led to the back of the mansion. Dreamily trailing his fingers along the side of the building Harry's state of mind was like that of a man under the spell of a Veela; he knew nothing more than the current moment and that if the music stopped terrible things would happen.

Harry walked around the corner and found himself at the base of a curving marble staircase that led up to a second floor balcony. Standing at the top of the stairs, swaying sensually to his own music, stood the naked silver blue figure of Draco Malfoy. At that moment it dawned on Harry what the 'M.M.' on the gates stood for, Malfoy Manor.

Draco's fingers moved with exquisite fury across the strings of the instrument. Harry stared at him as though Draco was a god, and for a fraction of a second Harry was certain that Draco looked back at him, but then was quite sure he had imagined it. Draco's blonde hair swept across his face in a fevered dance as he retreated back into the mansion, the hollow rooms quickly swallowed up his music. Harry followed

Harry's feet carried him up the marble staircase and onto the balcony. He followed Draco into the beautifully decorated bedroom of his archrival. Harry walked through the spacious room, finding it empty, and followed the sound of the music down the hallway. Portraits of dark wizards lined the acid green hallway on either side, all of them curious about who their mysterious visitor was. Harry followed the music into a chamber at the far end of the hallway.

Everything in the room was blood red, or something near to it, but Harry took no notice as he followed the pale figure of Draco across the room. In the middle of the room stood a cherry mahogany full concert grand piano, directly to the right of it, some feet away, stood a similarly coloured cello, and to the right of that, standing in the moonlight before the window, stood Draco.

Harry made to walk towards him but managed only a few steps before tripping softly over the bench of the piano. Harry sat down on the bench and with a glance towards Draco lifter the cover over the keys. Harry trailed his fingers silently over the smooth ivory keys but stopped when he heard the final notes of Draco's song fade into nothingness. Harry looked up and locked with silver eyes.

Then, without any warning, Harry's hands began to scramble across the keys, ringing out mezzo forte, the notes of Beethoven's third movement of the Moonlight Sonata. Harry played with an intensity of emotion and feeling that left Draco speechless. His fingers danced like spiders across the keys at an alarming speed that betrayed the delicacy of song he was playing. Draco could only stare with wonder at Harry while the boy played with all the talent of a young Vladimir Horowitz. Draco closed his eyes and relished the music that flowed so passionately from his nemesis. Seizing his next available opportunity Draco jumped in on violin improvising an accompaniment.

Unexpectedly, though, the moment he started playing they both fell into a powerful trance. Their bodies operated independently of their minds, which had become fogged and filled with wild half-formed thoughts. It took all of Draco's strength of mind to stop himself from playing, he felt the spell lift from him and he placed his instrument on the lid of the piano. He walked over to where Harry sat, still playing with a ferocity of passion, and yanked the boy's head back by his messy hair. Draco looked down into his eyes, into his soul, and with a slight growl, he smashed his lips down upon Harry's with a heart stopping kiss.

A/N: I've got writers block on the story Cruel Intentions so I've decided to get cracking on this one instead. Hope you like it. It ends horribly…hmm maybe someone dies, yes I like that.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry felt Draco's lips descend on his and was lost. His hands, having finally retired from their frantic playing, wrapped themselves around Draco's back and into Draco's hair. The silken strands brushed against his hands and Harry marveled why he had never thought to do this before. Harry turned in his seat so as to avoid the inevitable snapping of his neck the sharp angle of the kiss was bound to do. Crossing one leg over the length of the bench Harry felt the weight of Draco's body straddle his body.

Draco's hands scrambled frantically to remove the disgusting rags of Harry's muggle attire. His shirt disappeared without a thought, his belt clanged to the ground on a discordant note. The snap of a button and the release of a zipper and Harry was suddenly on his back with Draco's furious hands pulling down the last pieces of his clothing. Within moments Draco was on top of Harry.

Things slowed for a moment. The instruments, that had continued to play, had finished the melody and began to play something tense and dramatic. Draco recognized it as Beethoven's Pathetique, Harry knew nothing but the weight pressing upon him. And then it began, slow at first, flesh to flesh they moved as one. Harry was lost in the sensation of something moving within him. Draco was stunned at how good it felt to be touching so much of Harry at once.

The music began to race, their hearts keeping rhythm. The end was near and they felt it approaching. Draco grunted with the satisfaction of lust, Harry moaned a saddened sound knowing that their time had come to an end. Catching their breaths and finding themselves strangely upon the floor Draco rested his sweaty brow upon Harry's chest. And for the first time they relaxed in each others company, something quite without precedent.

But then Harry remembers where he is, how he got there, what he had done and more importantly with who. Harry remembers to feel ashamed, lying naked in his enemy's house. Harry jerks away and grabs at his discarded clothing seeking to hide the shame of what he's done.

And Draco catches his breath. Wincing in pain as his head unexpectedly hits the hard wooden floor. He wakes up from his euphoria and finds his lover scrambling away. He feels hurt, but then remembers that he isn't supposed to feel like that. Malfoy's aren't meant to feel like that. So he let's Harry get dressed watching as he struggles to separate his pants from his boxers. He watches from the piano bench where he sits playing a few notes on the keyboard.

"I never knew you could play" Draco ventures.

"Neither did I." Harry retorts brusquely. "What can I say I have talent coming out of my ass"

And Draco can't resist making an obvious pun, "Is that what muggles call it". And he is relieved when Harry blushes and turns away.

"Harry?" pleading

"Don't" whispered.

Silver eyes lock with green and everything is there. Shimmering on the surface, a world of pain and the answer. But the gaze is too intense and green eyes turn away.

A single tear from the melting ice man, hangs perilously upon a regal chin. A moment's hesitation before dropping, plunging to its death, absorbed into the seat cushion. But it's not alone and soon there are others. Diamonds falling from melted eyes.

And Harry turns to leave, unable to watch the death of the iceman, unable to save him. He walks onto the balcony to stare at the moon and spare a moments wonder for the future of a broken man. Leaning against the rail he feels a moment's pressure upon his back and then nothing. He doesn't even realize he's fallen until he feels the ground greet his face. And then he feels nothing.

And finally he and Draco find a common ground, if you'll excuse a bad pun, for Draco has felt nothing for a very long time.


End file.
